


Inflicted

by Senket



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-11
Updated: 2006-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:12:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senket/pseuds/Senket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Kaoru can't tell how much of Hikaru's worry is real and how much is for show. The difference between physical and emotional pain is that physical pain is easy to get rid of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inflicted

The redhead sighed, cradling a cup of tea as he stared towards the door distantly, feeling a cold shiver pass through his spine. For a moment Kaoru considered slipping a small cube of ice into the steaming tea, cooling it enough for a dramatic little moment that would guarantee some attention from his elder. It was a cheap trick though, and he didn't particularly want to please the girls today. He lowered his eyes, curling his fingers around the edges of the cup, the back of his palm resting along the porcelain ring.

The steam rising from the liquid met his palm as it hung over the cup, trying to make its way through his skin before realizing it could only detour, rising from either side of the hand. The heat from the smoky vapor stung his skin at first, but slowly the pain increased.

At first he sat perfectly still, smiling calmly at the girls he was seated across while Hikaru prattled on. The pain increased, and his brain was telling him he was insane for not removing this object that was obviously damaging his nerves. Another section of his brain quietly laughed at it. _If only it were always as easy as moving._

He shifted only slightly as the discomfort became unbearable, the skin of his palm turning hard and pink as it was being slowly roasted. That's when it stopped listening to him, and started shaking subtly, then more and more violently.

Quite suddenly, the expensive porcelain jerked off his lap and slipped from between his fingers, smashing against the floor. Half the room turned to look at him, but he gave them no heed, shifting off the couch to crouch by the pieces, picking them up one at a time.

Inevitably, and as always, he sliced a finger against a sharp shard, staring at it complacently. Hikaru jumped to his role, and Kaoru remarked coldly to himself that he could barely tell anymore where the line blurred between real and dramatic worry, and how much there was of each in this case.

Once his elder got a good look at his hand, the caring-big-brother look melted into a wholly genuine look of shock. Mildly confused, Kaoru glanced at his palm. It was mostly its usual dark-peach color, but there was a patch of bright pink where it had been steamed, and Hikaru rubbed his thumb against it to discover it was smooth.

Kaoru watched as worry melted into anger and Hikaru raised his gaze so that their eyes would meet, and in that moment knew that it was no longer about their audience. "Kaoru," his elder breathed, partly shocked and partly horrified but mostly irate, "What did you think you were doing?" Sometimes he didn't know. Was he a thorn in Hikaru's heart or a thorn in his side?

_If only it were always as easy as moving._


End file.
